


Fingertip Learning Curve

by leggyfae



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, American Sign Language, Background Relationships, Deaf Character, Disabled Character, Flirting, M/M, Meet-Cute, Mutual Pining, POV Jean Kirstein, Sign Language, Valentine's Day, background springles, hard of hearing character, prosthetic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 02:16:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17133155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leggyfae/pseuds/leggyfae
Summary: Jean was pretty sure that he was in love.With Valentine's day rolling up around the corner, will Jean ever be able to work up the nerve to ask out the cute florist that he's been crushing on?





	Fingertip Learning Curve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [itsallaboutflowermetaphors](https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsallaboutflowermetaphors/gifts).



> This was such a blast to write! I might have strayed a little bit away from the prompt, but I hope that y'all like reading it as much as I liked writing it!
> 
> Just a heads up, I am by no means a hard of hearing/deaf person, so I do apologize for any mistakes that I might have made along the way. I tried to be as respectful as I could, and I did consult someone who is hard of hearing.
> 
> That said, for reference, anything spoken in italics is being signed, and anything in plain text is being spoken verbally.

There was a strange interlude of time where the cafe was practically dead. No customers, the last of the black coffee he had at the beginning of his shift wearing off and leaving him wanting to straight up inject the caffeine into his veins, the store cleaned up after their morning rush. 10:15 until 11:50, Jean’s cafe was a ghost town. It was also usually the best time for his favorite customer to show up.

 

Jean knew his usual drink by heart ( _ Chocolate mocha, light sugar, two pumps of raspberry syrup, and extra whip, please _ ). Jean knew which pastries he lingered on and then changed his mind last minute (Orange Danish pastries and chocolate croissants). Jean knew that he worked across the street at the quaint, seemingly family owned, flower shop that had been there long before Jean started working at the cafe. Jean knew that his name was Marco.

 

Marco visited the cafe between 10:35 and 10:45 on the dot and stayed, chatting with Jean, until his shift at the flower shop started at 11.

 

Jean was pretty sure that he was in love.

 

His coworkers called him infatuated, but Marco had been coming by to see him specifically-- _ You’re the only one who can get my order right _ \--for the past few months. He even went as far as to trudge through the snow covered courtyard so he could get an overpriced cup of coffee when he already had a monster or a redbull sticking out of his school bag. Jean was convinced that Marco liked him back, there was no way that someone would spend thirty five dollars plus tax a week on coffee unless they had some secret, undisclosed reason for it.

 

And yet… 

 

There was still this underlying, bone-deep, mind-bending terror that if Jean said anything about liking Marco, he’d ruin the weird, newly budding friendship that they’d been forming for the past three months. Jean couldn’t let that happen.

 

He couldn’t. No matter how much Eren nagged him over the radio whenever Marco came in. No matter how much Jean’s heart fluttered when he watched Marco’s long, thin, artist’s fingers work as he placed his orders. No matter how much Marco’s bright smile and a little too loud laugh made Jean want to kiss those perfectly plump lips. No matter how much he wanted, becoming friends with Marco was far more important. 

 

So Jean let himself pine from a distance, watching Marco carefully tend to the flowers in the shop across the way, watching Marco’s fingers form words to far closer friends that Jean could only wish he was privy to.

 

~

 

Valentine’s Day was rolling around the corner and Jean had dumbly agreed to picking up last minute gifts for Connie, knowing that if he didn’t do anything, all Sasha would get for the third year in a row was a bag of cheap Hershey’s kisses and a unfulfilled promise of dinner at a nice restaurant. The problem was, Jean was A) terrible at picking out the perfect gift and B) a mostly broke college student. And Eren was absolutely no help whatsoever. No girl wanted a pocket knife for Valentine’s day, or toe socks, or a new set of utensils for that matter.

 

No, Jean figured that he needed help from someone who knew what they were doing.

 

The help of a professional.

 

Jean needed Marco.

 

~

 

Marco looked almost as shocked as Jean felt when he walked into the flower shop. It was definitely warmer than the snow dusted courtyard or Jean’s own cafe. “ _ There’s a greenhouse in the back. It makes the store warm,”  _ Marco explained, slowly so that Jean could follow the shapes of his fingers.

 

_ “Why are you here?” _

 

Jean blinked and Marco repeated himself, the corners of his lips quirking up in an almost fond half smile. “ _ I’m on my break? _ Oh, you mean… uh…  _ C O N N I E needs a gift for his…  _ Uhhh.”

 

_ “Spell it?” _ Jean fumbled through the letters and Marco giggled, showing Jean the correct sign and waiting for him to repeat it back before he motioned for Jean to continue.

 

_ “C O N N I E needs a gift for his girlfriend. Recommendations?” _

 

_ “Why not get her flowers?” _ Marco suggested, motioning to the vases scattered throughout the front half of the store.

 

_ “What else?” _

 

_ “Tell [C Bald] to cook her dinner and light candles. Set the mood.” _

 

Jean held up his hand, eyebrows furrowed.  _ “What? [C Bald]? What does that mean?” _

 

Marco laughed, leaning against the counter-top as he considered Jean for a moment. “Connie. He’s your bald friend, right?  _ I’ve got classes with him. It’s his name sign. _ ”

 

“You've got classes with Connie?” Marco nodded almost sagely. Of course he had classes with Connie. Didn't you know Jean? They're already the best of friends. “Right. Whatever. Do I have a name sign?”

 

_ “Maybe.” _ Marco grinned at him, pushing away from the counter with a soft grunt.  _ “Focus on getting stuff for Connie. Flowers, dinner, chocolates.” _

 

“Yeah, yeah.  _ What flowers do you think would work? _ ”

 

Marco stared at Jean for a moment, eyes narrowed before he turned to survey his shop. He snapped his fingers and motioned for Jean to wait, striding into the back room with a determined look in his eyes. After the first few minutes passed, Jean was starting to consider slipping through the backdoor to see if Marco needed help. He made half a step towards the door when it swung open, Marco carefully backing out with an overflowing vase in his arms. The glass clinked against the metal of Marco’s arm and let out a loud  _ thud _ when he placed it on the counter.

 

“ _ I had a customer back out of buying this one. It’s been a few days, so the flowers are a little... _ ” Jean furrowed his brows at the limp hand gesture Marco made, causing the freckled man’s fingers to pause. “ _ The flowers are W I L T E D. You can have them half off. Fifteen dollars. _ ”

 

Valentine’s day was tomorrow. Jean wouldn’t find a better arrangement if he tried. “Okay.  _ Can I pay now and pick them up tomorrow? _ ” Marco nodded and Jean grinned, checking the time as he handed Marco a wad of cash. 

 

On the way out Jean paused, suddenly curious, and turned around to face Marco. “ _ What’s your favorite flower? _ ”

 

“Snowdrops.”

 

Jean almost didn’t catch the soft flush to Marco’s cheeks. Almost.

 

~

 

Jean spent the rest of his shift the day before Valentine’s day thinking about Marco. He had definitely seen him blush. He couldn’t get the look of Marco’s pleasantly surprised face out of his head, the way his voice sounded when he carefully answered out loud rather than signing. 

 

Jean groaned, slumping against the counter, his eyes drawn to the movement across the courtyard. Marco had a customer. Someone that he was talking to very enthusiastically.

 

No.

 

Wait.

 

Not a customer. 

 

A friend? Tall. Brunette. Skinny. Almost as tan as Marco. Must be family.

 

Against his better judgment, Jean focused on their hands, piecing together bits of their conversation. Something about missing dinner and last minute work. Marco asked the chick about her girlfriend. The chick replied with something about… Well, that was the sign for boy, so… Oh.

 

_ Oh. _

 

_ Fuck yes. _ He was actually gay.

 

Jean forced himself to focus on their conversation again, catching Marco sign something about  _ Bold _ and a letter?  _ I _ or  _ J _ or  _ Y _ ? “ _ He’s really nice and funny. And we talk all the time. I’ve got a huge crush. _ ”

 

Jean felt his heart sink. Who was this fucker that Marco was talking to? And why wasn’t it him? He was nice. He could be funny. Marco talked to him. He--

 

Jean jumped when Eren smacked his side with a rolled up towel, turning to glare at his coworker. “What?”

 

“Your shift is over. Or did you want to stay for the afternoon rush and pine over your boy?”

 

Jean flicked Eren off and pulled his apron over his head. “Screw you. I’ll see you back at the dorm.”

 

~

 

Jean worked an early shift the next day, opening the store with Armin to prepare for one of the busiest days of the year. Eight hours passed in a blur, and when two hit, Jean almost forgot that he had to pick up the flowers for Connie.

 

He made his way across the courtyard and let himself into Marco’s shop, surprisingly empty considering the day. Marco was sitting behind the counter, beaming as he spoke to a ridiculously tall man. Rather than interrupt Marco and his friend, Jean wandered around the store, brushing his fingers against flower petals and fingering the ribbons on the vases.

 

He ended up near the counter after a few minutes and he heard Marco utter a soft, surprised gasp. Looking up, Jean gave a half smile and stepped closer when Marco waved him over.

 

“ _ I forgot that you were coming today. This is my friend, B E R T H O L D T, _ ” Marco finger spelled his friends name and then showed Jean his name sign, before continuing. “ _ Bertl, this is my friend [Bold J] that I was telling you about. He works in the coffee shop. _ ”

 

Jean blinked at Marco’s hands, looking up at his face after a moment. “Hey, Marco, repeat that for me?”

 

“What?”

 

“The…  _ My name sign. Repeat it. But do it sideways. _ ”

 

Marco glanced at his friend for guidance and was met with a shrug. Marco let out a huff and turned so that his right side was facing Jean, exactly how Jean had seen him the day before. He repeated the sign.

 

“Yup. That’s exactly what I thought.” Marco turned back towards him, raising a brow. “ _ You said that yesterday. To your other friend. That’s my name. _ ”

 

“ _ Yes. It is. Were you watching me and [Y Lesbian] talk? _ ”

 

Jean was bouncing on the balls of his feet. Marco had been talking about him. Marco had a crush on him. Marco  _ like-liked _ him. If Jean didn’t do anything about that fact now, he’d never live with himself.

 

“Jean?” 

 

“Will you go out with me?” Marco stared at him and Jean felt his chest slowly tighten in panic. “ _ You don’t have to if you don’t want to. But I was thinking we could get dinner this Sunday and spend time together outside of work. Alone. On a date. _ ”

 

Marco blinked slowly, colour steadily rising on his cheeks. “ _ On a date? _ ” He parroted back. Jean nodded. “ _ Fuck, yes! I have been waiting for you to ask for weeks! _ ”

 

Marco turned excitedly to Bertl, grabbing his arm before he whirled back to face Jean. “ _ Sunday is perfect! _ ” Bertl caught Marco’s attention and signed something that Jean didn’t catch. “ _ My lunch is over soon. Let me get you the flowers for Connie and then I’ll see you Sunday. _ ”

 

Jean nodded again, dazed. Marco said yes. He was going on a date. He needed reservations, he needed an outfit, he needed to figure out Marco’s number so he could find out his address. He needed…

 

Marco came back out and Jean took the vase from him, setting it down on the floor so he could hand Marco his unlocked phone. “ _ Your phone number. I’ll message you when I’m home so we can plan. _ ”

 

Marco was quick to add himself to Jean’s contacts, taking a selfie for his contact photo, before he handed the phone back.

 

It wasn’t until he was back in his dorm room, flowers already handed off to Connie, that Jean realized Marco put a heart next to his name in the contacts.

 

~

 

The few days between Valentine’s day and Sunday passed in a blur. Jean spent most of his time texting Marco, getting to know him more and more with each passing moment. He’d learned more about Marco in the three days texting than he had in the three months of seeing Marco almost daily at the cafe.

 

He’d quickly learned Marco’s favorite place to eat out, and in the same breath, he’d learned that Marco’s prosthetic came from a car accident when he was a kid. Their conversation had bounced around from places to eat to Marco explaining that he preferred to walk or ride a bike when possible to Jean talking about how he’d broken his arm falling down the escalator when he was ten to Marco bragging about having one of the most advanced prosthetics of their generation to… to… to…

 

~

 

It was date night and Jean had dressed his best. A pair of unstained jeans, a button up shirt, and even a dark green sweater that he knew made his eyes look good. Marco lived a few buildings down from Jean, and they’d agreed to meet outside of Marco’s building, simply because it was closer to their destination.

 

As he was walking through the courtyard, Jean paused near the gardens. It was a date, right? It was only right for him to bring flowers. He reached for the nearest blooming plant and stilled when he saw a scattering of small white flowers sprouting underneath a half dead bush.

 

Jean knew those flowers. He’d done research on them after Marco told him they were his favorites. 

 

Snowdrops. 

 

Jean was careful to pick a small handful, no more than four of the small stalks, before he continued on his way.

 

Marco was waiting for him on the steps to the dorm, bundled in a scarf and a dorky pompom hat to fight off the lingering winter chill. Jean’s heart skipped a beat when Marco looked up at him with a bright grin.

 

“ _ I got these for you, _ ” he said, holding out the flowers.

 

Marco stood and his smile grew brighter when he took the small white flowers in hand. “ _ They’re absolutely lovely. Thank you. _ ”

 

Marco’s lips pressed against his cool cheek and Marco’s hand slid warm into his own, pressing close to Jean as they started walking towards the restaurant. 

 

There was a strange interlude of time while they were walking, hand in hand, with a cool breeze nipping at their cheeks. It was a time where Jean felt like the world was at a standstill, letting him cherish the beginning moments of the start of a new relationship that he knew would last a lifetime. He didn’t know everything about Marco, and Marco sure as hell didn’t know everything about him. 

 

But with their fingers so gently intertwined? 

 

Jean knew that he was in love.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading this!! I had an absolute blast! JeanMarco is and will always be super important to me, so I'm really grateful that I was able to participate in the gift exchange again this year!
> 
> I hope that you like it itsallaboutflowermetaphors
> 
>  
> 
> Find me on twitter and tumblr under the same username: leggyfae


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